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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689620">Silver Storms</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_just_here_lol/pseuds/Im_just_here_lol'>Im_just_here_lol</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Airports, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, LGBTQ Character, Minecraft, Seaside, dreamnotfound</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:02:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29689620</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_just_here_lol/pseuds/Im_just_here_lol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a feel-good fic full of smushy romance to feed my addiction :)<br/>George comes to Florida to meet Dream and they fall in love</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>dreamnotfound - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Dreamnotfound fanfic</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26094862">Stick With Me (DreamnotFound)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/passmethemolly/pseuds/passmethemolly">passmethemolly</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This does have some stuff inspired by Stick With Me, so you may see some similarities...<br/>This was more of a comfort fic, but I thought, hell, why not show the entire internet my horrid writing skills :D<br/>I ship their CHARACTERS, don't come for me lol</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clay slammed his car door, the Florida airport looming over him, smooth concrete and sleek marble. The cool December breeze tickled his cheeks as he winded through the crowded parking lot. Clay fluttered his eyes as the front sliding doors shuttered open, enfolding him with the frigid AC. He stepped inside and weaved through the crowds of people, making his way to the escalator. Clusters of families and friends stood waiting for guests and relatives to come down the big mechanical staircase. Clay slipped around the waiting people and found a comfortable spot in view of the bottom of the stairs, awaiting the arrival of his best friend. His eyes flitted to all the different people flowing down the stairs until his eyes caught on a bright blue hoodie and a familiar face. His heart pounded as he stumbled through the crowd, waving out to him until the man heard his name. “George!” George spun on his heel, face lit up and smile running from ear to ear. He weaved his way through the crowd and they met in a small clearing, surrounded by talking and smiling people. Clay wrapped his arms around George’s shoulders and he felt skinny arms hugging his back. George chuckled, and Clay could feel his warm breath on his neck sending shivers down his arms and tingles tracing down his head and spine. “Wow, Clay,” George muttered. “I didn’t know you were a huggy person.” Clay felt George’s arms wrap a little tighter around his back and he giggled. “I’m a surprisingly emotional person, once you spend some time with me.” They stood like that for a little, George’s small frame wrapped in Clay’s broad shoulders. Clay took George by the shoulders and held him back to look at him, smiling like a child in a candy store. “You’re so short!” He exclaimed, shaking George a little. George knit his eyebrows together and gave Clay a pouting face. “That’s only because you’re so goddamn tall you Titan!” George argued, folding his arms and looking away, sticking out his lower lip. Clay laughed and George swallowed hard to keep the heat in his chest from rising to his face. Clay’s laugh was giggly and cute and seemed to shine happiness. It made George feel so good that he wanted to bottle it up and keep it in a jar forever. Clay spun George around and examined his face. “Y’know, I could probably just pick you up and carry you away if I wanted to.” He smirked at the face George made. “I’d take you to my secret stash,” He said, a cheeky grin growing on his face “It’s where I keep two big fat asses,” He said, choking on his last words as he tried to hold down his laughter, but he couldn’t hold it for long, and his trademark teakettle wheeze came shortly after. He started gasping for air, which made George start to chuckle. “Yeah.” George choked out. “‘Cus I’m thick.” George giggled. It earned a hard wheeze from Clay, who was now doubled over, propping himself up by resting his hands on his slightly bent knees. George laughed. “You look like a deformed frog” He huffed, joining in on frantically trying to inhale, and miserably failing. He inhaled deeply and stood, then in a burst of adrenaline flopped himself over Clay’s back, as Clay attempted to regain balance. “Get shorted” George exclaimed triumphantly, wrapping his arms around Clay’s neck. Clay wheezed and struggled to stand up. “You’re right, you really are thick.” He noted jokingly. “Hey!” George whined, slapping the back of Clay’s neck. “Am not.” He pouted. Clay snorted, and then suddenly pushed up with his legs, causing George to make an odd sound of startlement in the back of his throat. Clay wrapped his arms around George’s legs so he was in a piggyback position. “Secret stash, here we come!” He muttered, just loud enough for George to hear. “Hell no, Clay, put me down, I do not like this-” George exclaimed as Clay wove his way through the people, who were pausing to glance at the boys. “Clay.” George hissed under his breath. “Put me down you pissbaby” That only made Clay even more determined as he beelined for the sliding front doors. George punched Clay in the back of the neck and Clay ran through the parking lot, and George started to yelp as the moist cool air flipped his hair in every direction. George buried his head in the hood of Clay’s sweatshirt, fearing for his life. Clay headed past the cars and down a worn sidewalk, and as George finally looked up, they were standing on a pier built over the sandy Florida beach. George stared, mouth agape. The sun sent dappled grey light across the murky water, shining with the rising waves. “Wow.” George breathed. “I’m…. Colorblind.” Clay chuckled, and let George slide off his back, and they stood at the very edge of the pier, watching the view. “How did it feel to be tall, Gogy?” Clay turned to see the reaction of his snide remark, but he was met with something different. Panic flashed across George’s face as he blindly reached out for Clay’s hoodie sleeve. His eyes stared blankly forward and Clay’s eyebrows knit with concern. “Shit, Clay,” George said, the pitch of his voice rising. And in a split second, George’s knees buckled and he tumbled off the edge of the pier. Clay was yanked forward suddenly, but he caught himself. “George!?” He said, panic rising in his voice. “GEORGE!?” He scanned the water rapidly for any sign of George, but his breath bubbles were all that showed. “Shit, shit, shit.” Clay flung of his lime hoodie and dropped it on the pier next to him, and then jumped into the water after his friend.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Clay gets George out in time to save him, and they start the rocky trail home.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>MINOR TW: Throwing up, (almost) drowning<br/>yeeeeeep<br/>heeeey it's another *still short* chapter from your favorite braindead<br/>so that happened well I thought this was gonna be a stress-free fun fic but NOPE I just can't do that to myself&gt;:}</p><p>ill update *soon*<br/>enjoy my word trash</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clay shut his eyes tightly and felt the cold water wrap itself around him, murkiness seeping into all the cracks in his body. He fumbled around, finding nothing. He popped back up to the surface, and his three summers of lifeguard training and work started to come back to him. He moved directly above George’s bubble column, which was starting to slow. He dived down, arms pushing past waves of water. He felt something soft brush against his bicep. He gently reached out and found George’s hand and safely latched it in his.  He found the floor of the murky sea, and pushed, sending him and George up and splashing to the surface. Clay pulled George to him, but George was unconscious. He reached up and held tightly onto the pier, attempting to hoist them up. The water had made their clothes two times heavier, so it wasn’t an option to pull them out. With nothing else to do, Clay made his way to shore. It was unsteady, as Clay attempted to reach the sandy beach ahead. George was lighter than usual in the water, but it was still a hassle. When Clay could stand, he picked George up, cradling him in his arms. He laid him down on the soft cool sand and examined him. He was alive but barely, and his pulse was slowing. Clay sat back for a moment, thinking about what to do. He immediately jumped back to it, placing his hands on George’s chest and pumping. He didn’t like the feeling of it all, but it was necessary to pump all the water out. Cay was about to give up, tears stinging the back of his eyes and a lump in his throat. He gave it one last pump and George sputtered. Clay’s gaze shot up, and he wiped the hot tears off his face with a sandy hand. “George?” He muttered. George coughed, his hand trembling. Clay reached out and took George’s hand. “George?” He said again. “George?” George groaned and clenched Clay’s hand. He tried to pull himself up, but he was too weak. Clay wrapped an arm around George’s back and helped him sit up. George groaned again and threw up water. “Ugh… Clay?” He whispered. “George?” Clay whispered back. “Shit. Clay, why does it feel like I swallowed metal-” George was interrupted by a shattering sob. “Clay?” George rasped. “Clay? No, no no no no no.” George reached out his hand hesitantly and rested it on Clay’s shoulder. “Clay, what?” Clay wrapped his arms around George’s shoulder. “George I could’ve killed you!” He whimpered. “You almost died.” George blinked as the memories flooded into his head. “Oh…” The cold water, panic. “Clay, that wasn’t your fault. Please, Clay.” He returned the hug. “Even if it wasn’t…” Clay whispered. “I could’ve lost you. You’re my best friend, George. I can’t lose you.” “Clay…” George’s voice was hoarse. “Clay please don’t cry. Please, I need you to stay strong for me. I can’t hold myself together if you’re like this.” There was affection in his voice, nothing cold. He meant it. Clay was like his anchor. George could hold a strong face if someone else around him could. Clay sniffled and wiped his face vigorously with his palm, sand biting his skin. “Okay. I can do that, yeah.” He smiled. “Well, you wanna head to my house?” Clay laughed. “Damn, that sounds so weird on my tongue.” George laughed, but it sounded more like a meat grinder. “Yeah. My throat hurts, I need some real water.” He said, rubbing his neck and coughing up more water. Clay looked over and rested a hand on George’s forehead “Shit, George, you’re burning up!” George reached up and touched his forehead as well. Clay got up, but George stayed sat on the ground. “Well… I just nearly drowned, swallowed a lifetime’s worth of seawater, had a quick panic attack, I think this seems minimum.” George listed the traumatic experiences off on his fingers and chuckled. “Plus, I can’t swim.” He mentioned nonchalantly. Clay turned around and gave him an incredulous look. “You what” George stared back at him. “Surprise, beach boy. I don’t know how to swim. It was usually cold in England and nobody built a pool in my town, so I just never really learned.” Clay raised his eyebrows and blinked at him. “Well, George.” He said jokingly “I see a job for Beach Boy.” He said with a smile. “Shit, no,” George said. “Go back to your Beach Cave, Beach Boy.” Clay flipped him off. “If Beach-Boy sees a maiden in need, he comes and swoops in for the rescue,” he said, pointing at George “And he sees one now.” He said, running over and poking George in the middle of the forehead. George made a mock face of agony. “Fuck you, green boy.” Clay perked up. “Oh! My sweater.” He sprinted down the pier and grabbed his green sweatshirt. He came back and tossed it down to George. Carry that. I might have to help you back to the car, so I probably can’t hold it.” George nodded and laid the sweater over his arm. “I think I can do it, though,” He said as he tried to stand. He got on his feet and immediately collapsed, sputtering up some water. “Yup, nope.” Clay came over and bent down, letting George put an arm around his neck and he hoisted him up, and George stumbled along beside him. “Jesus, Gogy, you really can’t even walk?” Clay stopped to re-position George’s arm. “Hey, I’m trying.” he whined. “Everything hurts.” Clay rolled his eyes “I guess.” Clay wrapped his arm around George’s waist. “Clay what-” Clay cut him off. “Shut. I’m trying to help.” George gave up on protesting and pretended that Clay wasn’t so close. He held George to the side and lifted, holding him up by the waist. “That should help,” Clay said, strain showing in his voice “Ok, let’s go.” Clay walked along, George helping him out by balancing some of his weight on his toes. The car came in to view and Clay sighed with relief. “Clay…” George moaned. “I feel sick…” Clay sighed, and stopped. “George, I know. I’m trying.” His voice was soft and gentle. He let George lean on the trunk of his car while he opened the passenger door and Clay helped him find his way into the seat. Clay shut the passenger door and moved around to the drivers. “He started the car and put his hands on the wheel, straightening his posture and sighing. “Clay, please be careful while you’re driving, I think I might throw up.” George groaned. He was sitting awkwardly on the seat next to him, hugging his knees and resting his chin on his kneecaps. Clay reached over to his friend and rubbed his back. “I promise. I’m so sorry, dude, this must suck.” George nodded, silent. Clay smiled, revved up the engine, and started a medium-slow pace towards home.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>George and Clay arrive home and George (and you) are shown around the house.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>bippity boppity I procrastinate too much jesus christ<br/>anyway I lied about the next chapter being juicy there's really nothing I can't fit too much into my short-ass attention span:))))<br/>I PROMISE the next chapter got that CAKE. Literally and figuratively.<br/>My Grammarly go brrrrrr<br/>This one's longish...<br/>Promise I won't ghost yall again. Why am I making such a big deal its been a DAY sheesh...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clay pulled up in his driveway, the familiar weathered limestone smiling down at him. He turned to glance at George but he was asleep, head still rested on his knees. His face was relaxed, and his eyes flitted around behind his eyelids, dreams filling his mind. “George,” Dream murmured. “Georgie, wake up.” Dream patted his head gently. “Geeeoooorge” George mumbled some nonsense but didn’t wake. “George,” Dream said a bit louder. He ruffled his hair and shook him a bit. “Claaaaaaay…” His voice was slurred with sleep. “George, am I gonna have to tickle you?” Clay teased. “No…” George murmured. Clay groaned loudly. He jabbed George in the armpit and wiggled around his finger, but all he felt was cloth. He blinked, and realized, George had put on Clay’s lime hoodie. The thick material had wrapped around George, and he was snuggled up in a ball. “Aawww, Georgie, does someone like my hoodie?” Dream said, lightly pinching his cheek and tugging slightly. “Ow,” George said, his voice becoming slightly more conscious. “That hurts.” He whispered. Clay couldn’t help but grin. “Oh lord, you’re cute.” “Shuddup,” George mumbled, reaching up and sleepily slapping Clay’s hand. Clay looked at George fondly. He wasn’t as deeply sleeping as he had been before, but he still looked just as calm. His demeanor had stayed the same, but his eyebrows had slightly knitted, his face restfully concentrated. Clay examined George’s face more closely, mapping out every feature. He wondered how he would react if he put his hand on George’s cheek. He reached out slightly, but then stopped and shook his head vigorously. Why was he thinking like that? It was stupid They were only friends, nothing more. That would cross a line, he was sure. Yet, he still had the urge inside him to hold George close and keep him that way until the end of time. Clay knit his eyebrows and sighed. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Clay whispered to himself under his breath. He looked over to George again. He was stirring, repositioning his head and shifting in his seat. Clay shook his head again silently. He pushed open the driver’s door and made his way around to the passenger side. He opened the door as softly as possible and poked George. “George, if you don’t get up now I will pick you up and drop you in the ocean again.” George snorted and his head shot up. “Immup,” He said, his voice filled with sleep. Clay laughed. “Issonly ‘cus it’s sposed to be 1 AM in England right now,” George mumbled, hoisting himself out of the car. Clay laughed harder, a wheeze overriding the casual giggle. “Oh my god, you’re an idiot,” George said, standing on his tiptoes and patting the edge of Clay’s head. He stretched to reach the very top of his head and hunched over. “Eugh, bad idea.” George groaned, hugging his stomach. Clay laughed. “Oh god, Gogy. Am I gonna have to carry you in there? We’ve been out here so long next thing you know it’s gonna be dark.” He said, hooking his arms under George’s and wrapping them around his chest, hugging George’s back to his chest. George blushed, glad that the setting sun could pass the pink shading on his cheeks as lighting. “You know what?” He said, leaning into Clay’s chest. “Yeah,” George said, letting his legs go limp as Clay grunted, adjusting to George’s weight. “You did it once, do it again,” George said defiantly. Clay laughed. “No way, mister,” He said, attempting to slide his arms out from under George’s. George wrapped his arms around Clay’s a little tighter, holding on. “Oh come on, Dreamie.” George teased, using Clay’s least favorite pet name. Clay groaned. “Ugh, fine. Off to the sea we go.” He said, lifting George a little. “Oh hell no.” George yelped, standing up and heading for the big white house. Clay quickly grabbed something from the car and George heard it honk, signifying the car had locked. George waited at the door patiently as Clay quickly caught up to him. “Here, George, I got you something,” Clay said, pulling out whatever he had grabbed from the car. George turned his head to look at Clay and he leaned down and placed something over George’s face. George blinked and pulled the thing off his face. It was a pair of sunglasses. They had thick round white rims and dark black lenses. Clay took them from George’s hands and placed them on top of his head. “It’s like your Minecraft skin!” Clay pointed out, grinning from ear to ear. George gasped. “Ooooooh, it is!” He said, bouncing slightly. Clay laughed. “Come on, GeorgeNotFound.” he teased, elbowing him in the side. George giggled and he felt something stir in the pit of his stomach. He had felt it before. It wasn’t new. He knew it well, it came along when Clay was around. George suspected that it was the enjoyment of his company, but he wasn’t sure. He’d reached out to it, let it foster. He let it grow and he liked the feeling it gave him, a happy flutter in his tummy. He was curious as to what it meant, but he didn’t think much of it. Clay rustled with his keys and fumbled with them in the lock. Darkness was creeping upon them, the sun setting and the moon rising. The door swung open and the boys stepped inside the threshold. The downstairs was all one room but separated into designated areas. A small hallway with a shoe rack and coat hangers gave access to the door, leading out into the main room. To the left, the living room was small but looked comfortable. One big soft white couch faced the wall where a big flatscreen TV hung on the wall. An Xbox was wired to the TV and two controllers sat on a small coffee table in between the TV and the couch, sitting on a furry white rug. To the right of the front door was a long dining table, a glass tabletop with gold painted metal legs with six modern-looking grey chairs. The table had a long pearly blue table runner and flat white plates sat at each seat. To the left again, against the very back wall was the kitchen. Whitewood cabinets and white marble countertops were pressed against the far wall, oven in the corner, and a fridge on the right edge. A long bar separated the kitchen from the living room, three barstools accompanying it. In the far right corner, tall sheets of glass held up oak plank stairs led up to the second floor. Clay showed George around the first floor, pointing out minor details and showing him the best places to lay down or relax. Upstairs, a hallway leads forward against the back wall and turned right at the end, leading around the corner to a modern white bathroom. Near the top of the stairs, a doorway leads into the master bedroom, Clay’s. The door was against the closest right corner wall and in the left corner was a king-sized white bed. Against the wall in the back right corner was a small white desk with his computer and other electronic devices. In the left corner, a beanbag chair, a wardrobe, and a small bookshelf finished the room. A little further down the hall was another room, George’s. It was smaller than Clay’s, but it was roomy. Against the back left corner was a big grey bed, plain and simple. The back right corner had a similar desk to Clay’s but it had no computer on it. There were a white reading lamp and a small succulent, green and happy.The back left corner had a small carpet and a sleek white wardrobe. Clay let George settle down and unpack, making the room feel a little more like home. As George finished up, Clay popped his head into the room and let him know that he had ordered pizza, and it would be here soon and he was to come downstairs. George followed shortly after Clay out of the room, skidding on his socks happily. George and Clay sat at the barstools waiting for the pizza, making small talk and talking about new videos they were planning. The doorbell rang and the boys bounded over to the door, gratefully accepting the three cheese, pepperoni, and sausage pizzas the man had delivered. George stood staring through the window that faced the front yard by the dining room table and watched as the Domino’s car slowly pulled away. He turned to Clay with a gleeful face and as they sat down at the table to eat, a thundering boom shook the house, and rain started falling. Hard.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Confessions are made. The boys take movie time a step further than most would expect.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>snuggle time snuggle time<br/>yayyyyy finallyyyyy i get that SERATONIN &gt;:U<br/>this was so fun to write even though schoolwork delayed it quite a bit.<br/>I'll be posting a DNF animatic on my YT channel so I might link it here when it's up :)<br/>I KNOW ITS RUSHED IM JUST TRYNA SURVIVE ;&lt;;</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>George partly jumped out of his seat, startled out of his skin. Clay seemed not to notice and nonchalantly looked up at his frightened friend, a plate of pizza in hand. “You good, man?” He said, taking a bite of his pepperoni pizza. Patches, who had been dozing off in the living room loped over, mewling softly and brushing against George’s leg almost concernedly. George inhaled deeply and sat back down gingerly grabbing a piece of pizza. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t like thunder.” George said, shrugging and licking pizza oil off his hand. Clay shrugged and they ate their pizza, making small talk in between bites and goofing off whilst the rain poured. They managed to finish the whole pepperoni pizza, a couple of slices of cheese, and half of the sausage. George stood. “Imma go lay down, my stomach needs to rest. I ate way too much.” He said, giggling. Clay nodded as he finishes his last slice. “I could eat this whole thing without you, George. He sipped his water and gestured to his stomach. “This thing can eat a TRUCK,” HE said with emphasis, throwing his hands up. George laughed as he started his way up the stairs. “You’re dumb.” He said, a tone of affection slipping into his voice. He was sure Clay had heard it too, and he rushed off to his room to hide his embarrassment. He quickly shut the door and faceplanted onto his bed, blush creeping onto his cheeks. He slapped his face and chided himself. Why did he blush so EASILY? He frowned and pulled at his hoodie strings. He was still wearing Clay’s lime hoodie, and he pulled it off. He put it on his bedside table, changed into pajamas, and pulled out his phone. He was scrolling through Twitter when clay poked his head into the room. “Hey, George!” He said, TV remote in hand. “Wanna watch a movie?” George made a face of doubt but agreed nonetheless. He wanted to kick himself for saying yes but didn’t want to make a scene, so he made his way downstairs not far behind his friend. Clay and George picked a comedy movie and got settled, each sitting comfortably with their designated blankets on opposite sides of the couch. Clay started shifting uncomfortably after five or ten minutes, replacing blankets and moving pillows. George was half watching the movie and watching his friend. Clay’s felt like something was missing. “Ooh!” he exclaimed, concluding. “Popcorn!” Clay jumped up excitedly. George rolled his eyes and Clay’s stomach fluttered. Was he too excited? Was George annoyed? He smushed the feeling in his stomach and paid attention to the popping popcorn in the microwave. Clay removed the popcorn from the microwave, emptying the paper bag into a plastic blue bowl. He made his way around the kitchen bar and leaned against it. He watched George from the back, grabbing an occasional piece of popcorn. His eyes fazed from the TV to George and back again. He didn’t notice that George had turned slightly to observe Clay. “Clay,” George said, voice just lower than a regular speaking level but not whispering. “You’re looking at me.” George smiled slyly. Clay blushed, and he was glad the lights were off. “S-sorry?” He said. George fully turned to him and hugged his knees. Clay walked over to stand right in front of George, him on the couch, Clay towering over him. Clay leaned down just a little bit and George blushed, hard. Clay stared into his eyes for a little, watching George’s eyes flick over his face. Clay blinked at George and plucked off the white goggle glasses still rested on George’s head. He brought over his other arm to tap George on the nose. “Boop!” George furrowed his eyebrows and smacked Clay’s hand. “Gimme! Those are mine!” Clay giggled and stepped back, holding the goggles above his head. “Come get ‘em, shortie!” George huffed. “Fine, tall ass giant man.” Clay stepped back as George stood up on the couch, growing to be almost Clay’s height. At that exact moment, not only did George jump forward towards Clay, but Clay took a large step back, pressing against the kitchen bar table. George stumbled, and he closed his eyes, waiting to hit the cold wood floors, but warm arms wrapped under him, catching him and breaking his fall. George and Clay made eye contact. They both were blushing hard, their faces too close for comfort. George’s legs stumbled under him, trying to regain balance and get back on his feet, but he didn’t break eye contact or step away. His mind was screaming to back up, but his body didn’t listen. George was the one in charge in this situation, Clay was stuck against the counter and couldn’t move. But, before George could do anything, Clay smirked down at him. “You’re so short.” George groaned. “Ughhhh, CLAY! SHUT UP!” George shook Clay’s shoulders. ‘Make me, shortie.” Clay’s eyebrows knit with mock concern. George scowled, and grabbed the neck of Clay’s shirt. “Fine. I will.” Clay and George were inches away, and Clay could feel George’s warm breath on his face. Before Clay could react, George brought Clay closer and pressed his lips against George’s. George could feel Clay’s body tense, and George panicked, thinking he’d fucked something up. George paused, breaking the kiss, not opening his eyes and staying close, but not backing away. They were silent for a moment before George felt Clay rest his hand against his cheek. George inhaled deeply, letting the touch burst the bubble in his stomach. What he’d been fostering, growing, burning him alive. George felt Clay brush his lips against his again and he felt his heart dissolve. Clay put his other hand around George’s waist and pressed him into another kiss. George felt Clay’s eyes flutter shut and George wrapped his arms around Clay’s shoulders and ran his hands through his hair. Clay pressed his hand against George’s cheek, tilting his face to deepen their kiss. Clay moved his arms to his waist and wrapped them around George, holding him close. George put his hands on Clay’s cheeks and pulled him closer. Clay was the one to pull back, his face calm and almost relieved. “George-” Clay began, his tone soft. “Shit.” George interrupted, plopping down to the floor, hugging his head in between his hands. “Shit, shit, shit shit. Clay, what did I just do? Fuck, I probably shouldn’t have done that. Fuck, sorry.” George said, frantic apologies stumbling out of his mouth. “George.” Clay interrupted, tone careful. “George, get a hold of yourself. Here.” Clay dropped to his knees and held George’s hand. “You kissed me.” Clay said, voice calm. “Yeah, I did.” George mumbled. “And I kissed you back.” Clay pointed out. “George, I think that says more than what words can say.” George looked up to see Clay’s gentle smile, his head slightly tilted. “This is surreal.” George breathed. “I knew I was… Whatever, but wow. I’ve never mentioned it to anyone.” Clay laughed. “Me neither, I wasn’t even sure. I thought I liked girls, but girls aren’t you.” George giggled. “Clay, what do we do?” George said, staring blankly at the floor. “Huh?” Clay said, confusion showing in his tone. “Clay, what do we do. We obviously can’t live on as friends but what if a relationship doesn’t work? We’ve known each other for so long, we can’t leave now. I can’t lose you as a friend. What do we do?” George murmured. Clay was silent for a moment. “We risk it.” Clay looked up to make eye contact with George. ‘It’ll break us both to pretend this never happened. It’ll tear us both apart. I love you, George.” George’s face flushed and he looked away.  Clay reached out and put his hand on George’s, which was gently placed on his lap. George looked back to Clay and smiled gently, entwining his and Clay’s fingers. “I love you too.” George said, the words coming out in a stutter. Clay pulled him close, hugging his small frame. “You did it.” Clay whispered into his ear. “What?” George whispered back. Clay buried his face into the base of George’s neck. “You said it. You did it, what we were working on. You did it, on your own. I’m proud of you.” George smiled into Clay’s shoulder. “I did it.” He said, his voice so quiet even Clay could barely hear it. Clay pulled George closer until their chests touched and their legs wrapped around each other. George snuggled his head into Clay’s chest and he rested his head on top of George’s. He was practically sitting on Clay’s lap at this point. They were comfortably locked together, arms safely wrapped around each other. Clay planted a final kiss on the top of George’s head, burying his face in his hair. This was how they fell asleep, thunder and the hard patter of rain lulling them to sleep.</p>
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